The Other Side
by NightElfCrawler
Summary: Alien abductions, conspiracy theories and robots in disguise. What she thought was an ordinary normal job turned out to be far more than she ever could expect.
1. Chapter 1

**The Other Side**

By: nightelfcrawler

_Author's Note: The usual warnings apply. M/M though not explicit or detailed, just background info. Another story I came up with then turned into an rp with SkyTangent ^_~ Dang her for her inspiration *shakes fist*_

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**Chapter One**

It didn't look like much from the outside, but then that was the point. The FBI didn't exactly make a habit of painting big signs directing terrorists to their headquarters. However, the building had been placed on the "Buildings I'd tear down" list. It was tall, completely constructed of ordinary cement with mirrored windows lining the entire façade clear up to the overhanging top story. The drizzling mist raining down on the busy streets of Pennsylvania Avenue didn't help improve it's looming presence, the constant stark reminder of it's true purpose. Blinking back a few stray raindrops that found their way onto her face from beneath the umbrella she carried, the young woman who stood there wrapped in the average foul weather coat studied the building intently from behind deep green eyes. She was no one special on the outside, your average ordinary human being who attempted to pass off as attractive to the high standards society set, but at the same time she held her own opinions tightly in check when it came to common sense. She was rational and grounded in her thought processes. She also had a photographic memory. She knew instantly she didn't like the J. Edgar Hoover building, and began to wonder if she'd been a bit hasty in taking the job.

But then she wasn't one to believe in omens.

A passing car's horn jolted her out of her reverie and with a resigned sigh she quickly jogged across the rainy street, irritated when a splash of street water splattered on her nice clean nylons. Shallow she normally wasn't, but she was attempting to make a good impression on this day of all days. Such was the way of careers. Fortunately for her, the interior of the building was slightly less dreary as she entered, shaking the umbrella off at the foyer and taking time to glancing around the interior. Far more brightly lit, professional and classy, the lobby was crammed with civilians and military personnel alike. There was even a curious batch of Japanese tourists off to one side. Fortunately she already knew where it was she was expected, and so passed by the line at the reception desk to enter the elevators at the end. At least the line through security had been short. As the doors to the elevator slid shut, a man pushed his way in last minute with an apologetic smile to her, then straightened his tie.

"Sorry." He said with a dry chuckle. "Always late, right?"

She smiled mildly and nodded politely but didn't engage him in conversation. There were some days where one's thoughts were best kept to oneself.

This wasn't one of those days.

"First day at work?"

Of course it would have been rude not to reply. "Yes." She said trying to appear polite.

"Nervous huh?" She just shrugged slightly in reply. Like she was going to admit to a total stranger her flaws? Unfortunately he was the nosy type and continued to chatter. "This place can be a bit intimidating at first, don't worry." He smiled that wide geeky type of a smile that told her he obviously had no girlfriend. "So what are you in? Accounting? Finance?"

The elevator doors chimed their arrival at his floor as he turned to her expectantly. "Public Relations." She replied calmly. That was enough to draw a blank stare from him in surprise as the doors slid shut. She allowed herself a small smile. There were times like this when she found it decidedly convenient to have gotten that Master's Degree. Still, to be given a job in this high of a position was nerve wracking to anyone, even if you had ice water in your veins.

The doors opened once more and she stepped out into a foyer that looked eerily like something from a science fiction movie. The corridor was white with no windows, sterile walls and ceilings with florescent light fixtures, a couple plush grey chairs next to each other in a waiting grid, and a secretary talking calmly on the phone behind a white desk. As she approached the secretary glanced up, smiled politely and acknowledged her presence, continuing with the phone conversation. There was little to see here while she bided time for the secretary to be free. No posters on the wall, no flowers, just bare emptiness.

Much like her life had been up until now.

It wasn't that she hadn't tried, of course. It was just most jobs didn't agree with her personality quirks. She had aspired to be a lawyer, but after going through law school and being hired by a firm she was sub sequentially dismissed due to 'lack of empathy with clients'. She had tried out for being a prosecuting attorney but was turned down after an uncomfortable run-in with the lead partner deciding he liked his new female hire. Unfortunately for her, he had strings that could be pulled. After those two incidents no one in the law field would touch her with a nine foot pole. So she had turned to other fields that her specialty could be applied to. Surprisingly she had been contacted by the FBI, a field she had never considered but nonetheless seemed to provide excellent benefits. She could only surmise what 'Public Relations' meant. There were so many double meanings to that word when it came to the government.

"I'm sorry for the wait. Can I help you?"

Her attention turned back to the secretary as she smiled politely again. "Yes." She said approaching the desk with a soft click of heels on the white tile flooring. "Celine Duvall. I'm to start working today under Mr. Newell."

"Yes, he's expecting you. Let me buzz you through." There was a distant sound of the door unlocking from the secretary's left and she waved to the plain door behind her. "Go on in."

"Thank you." She walked forward and opened the door and stepped into what was now her new workplace. It looked like any ordinary office lined with cubicles, the clacking of keyboards and the dull murmurs of conversation.

As she glanced around a tall man with a grey smartly trimmed beard approached here. He wore a nice shirt with a tie, but it was slightly loosened around his neck. "Ah, Ms. Duvall! So glad you found our little corner of the world." He reached out his hand and she smiled politely taking it into a shake. "It's nice to finally meet you in person. You have no idea how troublesome those interview committees are, I would much rather have had you up here to interview in person but you know how government regulations are."

"Of course, sir."

"Please, call me John." He said firmly, releasing her hand and gesturing for her to follow. "So there's not much to see here, your typical work area. Break room is over there, there's also a nice café downstairs that I highly recommend you try out." They wove their way through the maze of cubicles to the back area of the building where the windows overlooked the Washington D.C. skyline. There were lines of partitioned rooms here, one of which he led her into and shut the door giving them a semblance of quiet. John sat down and leaned back casually in his chair as she sat across the desk from him. "So I'm assuming they gave you the bare bones version of the truth?"

"Yes, sir." She replied with a faint smile. The 'government's' version of the truth usually was an over exaggeration. "Public Relations. I'm assuming that means representing the public face of the organization."

"Something like." John agreed chuckling as he leaned forward. "Officially the military handles all the secret cover-ups." He grinned widely which told her right away he was overplaying the conspiracy theory to humor her. "We just write their speeches, tell newspapers and television stations what they need to hear, and what they need to know. We have the inside on information they don't have, and can't have, and it's up to our department to make sure they don't use it if they get it."

She smiled genuinely at that. So this is why her lawyer training would be useful. "So we tell them what they need to know… and gloss over the interesting parts."

"Essentially." He chuckled. "What you learn in this department obviously is top secret. Now don't get your hopes up, we don't get to hear the best stuff by all means, the military reserves that right to hide their secrets. But it still can be interesting. Either way, I'll let your partner fill you in on the details."

She blinked. "Partner?"

"Ah yes it's standard protocol for all new agents to be assigned an experienced partner. In your case…" He trailed off and cleared his throat a bit. "Well he's not thrilled about it, but don't let him bully you. He can come off a bit rude, but he knows his stuff."

"Don't worry, sir." She said attempting to stow her amusement. "I can take care of myself."

"So I've read." John's eyes slid down to the file on his desk and lightly patted it. "I'm familiar with your past work history."

"And?"

"And if it were a problem I wouldn't have hired you. We know some of the hidden details that weren't publicly released, so I wouldn't worry. It's your nature that most interests us in the first place. You have the ability to tell a lie with a straight face, and that's a very important trait that we can use here. Most of our agents are very good at keeping their true intentions secret in front of a public face. You'll fit right in."

Celine lifted an eyebrow but didn't comment as John stood up. "Well best get down to introducing you. I'll let your partner go over the details, you'll stick with him for the first few weeks, observation cases mostly. Once we get a real case I'll stick the two of you on it to see how you do. This way." They walked back outside the office and down the hallway towards the windowed side of the building were several cubicles were lucky enough to have a grand view of Washington spread out before them. It was a maze of corridors and small twists before finally John stopped before a wide cubicle office space. "Celine Duvall, meet Trey Cooper, special agent in charge of our public face."

The man sitting at the computer was definitely not what she might have expected out of an FBI agent. The typical stereotype picked them wearing a black suit, clean shaven, older or at least unattractive, and very stiff. The man who glanced up at them was the complete opposite of that in many respects. He wore a simple navy blue polo shirt neatly pressed and tucked into black slacks. His hair was an unassuming dark brown that bordered on black, a small trimmed goatee framed a handsome strong face. Dark eyes stared up at her from over a pair of stylish Romani sunglasses perched on his nose. He wore no jewelry, no tie, only a simple silver watch on his wrist that was of undetermined make and looked expensive. "Trey, I'm sure you can help her get started. I'm not sure what's on your plate today, but if you can give her a tour and start her off that would save me some time." Trey simply shrugged once, his dark eyes sliding to study her with a sharp intensity like someone reviewing a job candidate, despite the fact she already had been hired. "Well then." John offered a hand to her which she lightly shook. "Good luck. If you have any questions you know where to find me, door's always open."

"Thank you sir." With that, John turned and vanished amidst the tangle of cubicle walls leaving Celine to sit down at her new desk. It was neat and organized with no clutter, a fresh start for her first day. She slipped into the chair and tucked her purse into a drawer then glanced over at her new partner. Trey was staring back at his computer screen with a disinterested expression, idly tapping at the desk with the tips of his fingers. When he noticed her attention drawn to him, he paused to glance her way. Celine smiled. "Nice to meet you."

Trey continued to stare at her without a response, then after a moment he abruptly rose. "I suppose you will be wanting to be shown around then." His voice was deep and somber, and did nothing to reassure her that he was at least pleased to have a partner. Already she began to gather that he was clearly not appreciating his new role as a mentor. "This way then." He said without waiting for a reply, turning and starting through the maze of cubicle walls.

"Great. Nice guy." She muttered before quickly moving to follow him. He was tall enough that she could see him easily over the walls and caught up as he headed into the break room. There was the usual, coffee, soda machine, snacks… Trey just waited as she glanced around without commenting, a bored expression on his face. Celine hated small talk, but at this point she was becoming irritated with her tour guide for being so stoic. "So, been here long?"

That produced a small blink from him as he stared down at her, distracted from whatever fly he might have been studying on the window. "What?"

"How long have you worked with the company?"

"Oh." He frowned a bit. "Just under five years." He turned then and led her back through the maze of corridors. The remainder of the tour went like that, where she attempted to glean something out of him, he produced one or two word replies and soon they were back at their desks.

"So, what secrets are we currently suppressing at the moment?" Celine asked wryly.

Trey glanced up at her sharply, his eyes narrowing with sudden suspicion as if she'd said something uncalled for. "Nothing out of the usual. It's been fairly quiet as of late."

"Right." She sighed and eyed the files stacked neatly on his desk. "Are you going to share any details over the job with me, or am I just supposed to figure it out on my own as some kind of test? I'm beginning to think you have some kind of resentment against having a partner, am I correct?"

Trey frowned again. It seemed to be a common expression for him. "I have nothing against a partner." He replied somewhat stiffly. "I have worked with one and two partners for most of my career."

"Then it's me you object to?"

His dark eyes studied her. "No. You seem to be a capable woman."

"Thank you." She said dryly. What was with this guy, he couldn't be serious. On one hand he looked so casual, but he was beginning to act the very stiff stereotype she'd tried to peg on him. Sighing, she decided the best thing to do was start working and see what he offered in guidance. It wasn't much. By the time she'd set up her computer and checked her 'welcome to the company' e-mails, Trey hadn't yet started in on instructing her. Glancing over the top of her computer, she could see him staring distantly out the window with a distracted expression on his calm face. Shaking her head, she decided that she'd have to figure out everything on her own if she wanted to learn anything. So, she began to familiarize herself with the open files.

There were a numerous array of interesting files currently in the works. She was able to sort them according to agents assigned, and saw quite a few were assigned to Trey. Curious, she punched them up. Most of the files had something to do with military, specifically keeping top secret information from being released. Everything from military maneuvers to new training bases. It wasn't very interesting, as John had promised, and Trey's writing in the official press releases was even less so. Wincing, she glanced up at him again, seeing he was still distracted. Well, perhaps he wouldn't mind if she made a few alterations… She made a copy of the files so his original work wouldn't be lost, and began to re-write his reports making them far more user friendly, less technical, and more interesting. It gave her something to do, and it was only when she went to close the document and found it was read-only, and heard a ding on the computer across from her that Trey finally seemed to notice what she was doing. His head turned and he studied the computer screen, and as a knot of uncertainty pulled at her gut, she heard him click the mouse, and waited. After an agonizing few minutes, she saw his head peer around the computer and their eyes met. "You wrote this?" He asked, frowning.

"Uh. Yeah. I kept the originals." Celine was quick to point out. "I just needed to polish my skills."

He frowned, his head tilting back towards the screen as he studied the words. Celine was about to apologize, when he surprised her. "It's good."

She blinked. "Thank you. I thought you might not appreciate having your work altered though."

He frowned but glanced back at her. "It's better than what I can do." He pointed out very straightforward. "Could you re-do all of these like this?"

"Of course." Celine smiled, relieved. "I'd be happy to."

The rest of the morning passed smoothly and less tedious as Celine took each file and re-wrote his summery, careful not to include any additional information about the subject, but simply keeping to his outline. By about noon she had re-written every single one of his active files, which were of course the only ones that mattered. Sighing she cracked her fingers as she glanced out at the sight of the capitol spread out around them. The drizzling rain hadn't stopped, unfortunately. The streets were still coated with a damp sheen of water and people still hurried around with their umbrellas and coats pulled tight.

"Do you want to join me for a cup of coffee?"

The question came so unexpectedly that Celine wasn't sure she'd heard right. She glanced back to Trey, and was startled to see him watching her expectantly. His face was as emotionless as ever, but his eyes oddly wary, as if the concept of asking her to coffee was about as daunting as facing a criminal. Somehow, she didn't feel flattered. "Excuse me?"

A brief flash of hesitation flashed over his face. "Coffee? Would you like to get some? With me."

The expression on his face was almost so ridiculous, she nearly laughed out loud. "Have… you ever asked someone out to coffee before?" She managed to say with a straight face, though her eyes glittered mischievously at him.

Trey sighed, and finally showed some human emotion as he looked away embarrassed. "Not particularly. None of them have been as… interesting."

"I'll take that as a compliment. And yes, I'll join you for coffee."

Trey stared at her, his mouth half-opening before he recovered. "Really?"

"Well?" She stood, shouldering her purse. "Are you going to gawk or are we going to go for a walk?" Trey blinked at her but rose, grabbing a leather jacket hanging from the back of his chair in response. Celine eyed him. "You're going to get soaked like that."

"What?"

"It's pouring outside." She pointed out the window.

"Oh. Right." He frowned, then fumbled in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small compact umbrella she SWORE couldn't possibly have fit. Nonetheless, she shrugged and they made their way down to the ground floor and out into the drizzle. Celine pulled her trench coat closer around her, and Trey was kind enough to extend his umbrella over the two of them as they walked down the street heading north across a few blocks to the Starbucks nestled between old turn-of-the-century buildings. It wasn't far, and it was usually less crowded than the Artisan and less noisy as the Hard Rock. Though her feet were feeling a bit damp by the time they pushed through the doors into the warm café, she found the coffee shop more pleasant than she had expected. It was bustling, but there were still a few tables towards the back. She shook her coat off, hanging it on the pegs near the door as Trey hung his umbrella next to it. They pushed their way through the gathered people to stand in line.

"Next!" A bold voice proclaimed. "Come on, hurry it up people!"

Celine winced. "Boy this guy has a pair of pipes."

"Tell me about it." Trey actually smiled as he moved up. "Hey Skye." He greeted.

The man behind the counter grinned widely with a pair of perfectly white teeth. "Hey! Trey, nice to see ya dude. The usual?"

"Yes, and whatever my partner would like as well." He nodded to Celine who smiled gratefully at his chivalry.

"You ol stuffy dog." Skye grinned, glancing at her. The guy was one of those kinds that you either loved or hated. His skin was deeply tanned like someone who spent far too much time in a tanning booth, his hair shaggy and unkempt, a sandy brown streaked blonde, and he wore a tight deep violet shirt with some tight necklaces and bracelet cuffs. He sported a few piercings in his ears as well, and definitely seemed the type prone to work in a coffee shop. Leaning forward on the counter, he offered a hand to her, which she took as he shook it enthusiastically. "This guy's been solo for so long I began to think he was hopeless."

"She's my partner at work, Skye." Trey sighed, seeming to be a bit exasperated at the man's enthusiasm."

"Still, she's a dish." Skye winked at her, and Celine felt her cheeks heat. Ok, that cinched it. This guy HAD to be gay. "Maybe she can get you to ease up." He winked at her. "Partner or not, a girl will do him good. He's WAY too uptight."

Celine smiled. "I take it you two are friends."

"Yep. He's been coming in here every day for five years." Skye grinned. "We know more about each other than even we care to admit. Anyway, what can I get you?"

"Caramel Apple Spice, grande, extra nutmeg."

Skye grinned. "Oohh sweet tooth. Nice. You got it." He punched up the bill and pointed to the young woman busy filling orders. "That lovely young lady there will bring your drink. Make sure to tell her how beautiful she looks with mocha on her cheek."

"You asked her out yet?" Trey asked, smiling a bit.

Skye looked suddenly nervous. "Nah… I don't think I'm her type. She's so calm and quiet and I'm so…"

"ADD?"

"Well duh. I work in a coffee shop." Skye rolled his eyes. "But seriously, you think I should?" He glanced sideways at the girl in question. Celine peered curiously over at her. She looked like the artistic type, her reddish hair was pulled up in a spiky knot on top of her head, she wore narrow square framed glasses and was very thin and tall.

"Stop beating around the bush." Trey recommended, pulling out some cash and paying him. "You've been admiring her since she started two years ago. What's keeping you?"

"Says the guy who's not had a date like, ever."

"Oh shut up."

Grinning, Skye ushered the next person forward as the two made their way to the other counter. "So, you two seem pretty tight." Celine smiled.

"I suppose." Trey shrugged. "He reminds me of a guy I used to work with."

"He doesn't seem your type."

Trey grinned at that, chuckling. "I know. It's odd I suppose. We were total opposites. He was always the crazy off-the-wall kind, I was the boring stiff. But for some reason we worked well together."

Celine studied him. "Sounds like you miss him. What happened?"

"Oh, we separated." He shrugged. "We worked in the military together, and our tour of duty was up. We all went our separate ways." He frowned. "Haven't seen him since."

"That's too bad." Celine said softly, her eyes lowering. "But I suppose that's life, right?"

"Yeah." He agreed.

"Here you are." Their drinks were handed over courtesy of the young woman at the counter. She smiled tiredly at them, brushing a strand of loose hair out of her eyes. The nametag attached to her apron named her Nicci. "Enjoy."

"Thanks." Trey said, smiling faintly at her before they moved towards the back of the restaurant and sat down.

"So he's been trying to get the courage up to ask her out, eh?" Celine smiled, sipping her apple cider. "I totally thought he was, you know…" Trey blinked up at her with a blank expression. "…gay." She finished winking. "He's so over the top."

He snorted. "No, he's not gay. He flirts with all the women, none of the guys. Just when it comes to someone he actually likes, he's shyer than you'd think."

Celine smiled. "Cute." She remarked. "So…" She tapped the table and Trey glanced her direction. "You were in the military? What branch?"

"Air force." He shrugged, sipping his coffee and making a face as he downed it.

"Nice." She commented. "What did you fly?"

"F-22's."

"Really? That's pretty high up." She commented, lifting her eyebrows. "Those were top of the line for their day, still are pretty sweet jets."

His eyebrow lifted. "You know military aircraft?"

Celine grimaced. "Not necessarily by choice. My father's in the government, I was shipped around from base to base as a child. I got to see some pretty interesting prototypes in action while I was growing up. The air shows were phenomenal though, I have to admit. I've always admired the acrobatics those things can perform."

"They are very versatile." He agreed, smiling over his coffee at her. "I haven't seen another prototype that I've liked quite as much. There's been some decent designs, but nothing that's as skillful in the air."

"What about the new F-42?"

Trey glanced up, surprised. "I've heard of it, but haven't seen schematics yet. Have you?"

"Yeah." She grinned widely. "I have an inside source."

"Really? Who?" he leaned forward, clearly fascinated.

Celine sighed, and leaned forward, beaconing him close. "Look… I don't spread this around because if there's one thing I hate, it's getting jobs because of who I'm related to, not because of the work I do. That's why I kept my mother's name." She smiled tightly. "My father tried to sway me, but respected my decision eventually. I think he's proud either way since I got this far on my own. But there ARE advantages to being the Secretary of Defense's daughter."

To her surprise, Trey froze. "You are John Keller's daughter?"

"Yeah." Celine smiled tightly. "But keep it to yourself, kay? I don't put it on my resume." Trey's expression didn't do much to pacify her. "You won't tell anyone will you?" She pressed, staring at his dark expression.

"No. I won't." He said firmly, lifting his gaze to study her speculatively.

"It changes things a bit doesn't it." She asked wryly, sighing as she leaned back in her chair. "It always does. Suddenly people walk on eggshells around me."

"I won't." He promised, and she was surprised to see genuine honesty reflecting out. "It surprised me, since I had the chance to meet your father a few times. But I don't care what your lineage is. Your work speaks for itself. That's your credentials. It doesn't matter where you came from or what your past holds. It's the present that's important."

Celine smiled. "Thanks for understanding."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Other Side**

By: nightelfcrawler

_Author's Note: The usual warnings apply. M/M though not explicit or detailed, just background info. Another story I came up with then turned into an rp with SkyTangent ^_~ Dang her for her inspiration *shakes fist*_

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**Chapter Two**

They made a good team. It always surprised her when she heard people talk about how closed and secretive Trey was, how they never got him to smile or open up about himself, yet Celine found him perfectly easy to talk to. Sure, he was a bit stiff and uncomfortable about talking about things other than work, but she'd worked with more difficult people before. FBI had a bad rap. Most of them were good folks. Through the next few months, she found out more about Trey, and found him to be a very interesting person, but not for the right reasons. He had mentioned his military service, but when she questioned further he wouldn't give much details about his missions, claiming most of it was classified. Well that much could be true, but she found it a little suspicious, especially since he couldn't tell her where he was from, where he'd served overseas, or even what his squadron had been named.

It was even stranger when she began prying into his personal files.

She knew she shouldn't have done it, and felt bad after she did. However, as she studied his personnel data, she began to wonder more and more about him. It wasn't private per-say, it was just in his employment records, but she looked up the address that was printed on his checks and googled it. She was a little surprised to find it was a warehouse in an old industrial district, not a flat or apartment. Furthermore, his employment history was marked 'classified' and signed with her father's own signature. While this in itself wasn't unusual for government agents, it did set off some warning signs in her head.

There were far too many coincidences.

Still, Trey didn't ACT suspicious. He was perfectly cordial and even seemed to lighten up around her more than the other co-workers. That's why she felt even more guilty when she decided to follow him home one evening.

Or at least, tried to.

She got as far as the underground parking lot, the usual place to stow ones' car in the capitol. She followed him through the rows of beemers and Mercedes, watching as he slipped into the far rear of the garage. There was a Porche parked there, and she waited, expecting him to climb in and drive off. However the garage remained silent. She waited five full minutes, seeing no movement, before she finally slipped forward, keeping low to the rows of cars before she got a full view of the corner spot.

He wasn't there.

Straightening, she stared at the empty area in disbelief. He couldn't have gone anywhere, there were no doors, no railings that led up to the street on this level, and no small places where he could hide. He seemed to have simply vanished into thin air.

It got weirder.

She began noticing small things, little things that most people would overlook. For one, he never left his desk during the day except to take files to and fro. She could see him easily wherever he went, and she made sure to keep her attention on him when he did that. Never once did he go to the water cooler, never once did he pour himself coffee, and never once did he go to the men's room. Not a single time during the day. Now this could be passed off if he had a phobia of germs or public restrooms. Some people did, after all. So she asked him casually if he had any fears one afternoon over coffee. He assured her he didn't have any fears at all, that he found some of the common ones a bit silly.

Another thing she began to notice… he never ate. Sure he'd drink coffee, sipping his paper cup with the plastic top casually as she drank her own, and sure enough it was fully empty by the way the cup sounded as it hit the table. But she never saw him order a pastry or ham sandwich, he never brought lunch, and never partook in donuts that were in the break room from time to time.

Now ordinarily she would have just thought this was him being a health nut. After all, plenty of people went without lunch or snacks in the day, some people COULD do that. She didn't always eat a meal in the middle of the day herself, though it usually made her ravenous after work. Still, it wasn't enough to really convince her something was OFF.

That is, until one afternoon.

It started normally, a pile of paperwork and small chit-chat. Until she received one of the frequent emails that she often intercepted from the Defense Department. Her father had put her on the mailing list of any company briefings, to help her keep abreast of what was going on. It came in helpful from time to time, though it was mostly boring crap. However, as she opened up the email, she grinned a bit at it's contents. "Hey, Trey. Take a look at this, I think you'll like it." She pointed at her computer, prompting here partner to come around to stand behind her chair. "Pops sent me the newest prototype schematics for the new jets they're testing out. They're going to be released tomorrow at a briefing. Take a look." He squinted at the screen, leaning over her shoulder a little as he lightly placed a hand on the back of her chair. Celine did her best to try and ignore the close contact, but it was a little hard with him breathing over her neck. Still, she clicked the document and it maximized onto the window. Abruptly she felt his hand grip the seat with a vice-like intensity, his breathing held, and his entire body went rigid. It was NOT a feeling of admiration, and Celine risked a glance up at Trey. She was startled to see an expression of blind shock on his face as he stared at the prototype schematics. And it wasn't a good kind of shock. "Hey… you ok?" She asked quietly.

"Where are these from?" His voice was tightly controlled, but dripping with rage. She had never before heard such emotion from him, pure raw anger tightly controlled behind piercing furious eyes. "Who sent these to you?"

"My contact at the Defense Department." Celine said softly. "Like I said, they're being released tomorrow… Why? What's wrong."

"Impossible." He whispered tightly. "They can't…."

"Can't what?"

Suddenly, he looked down at her, as if finally seeing her sitting there. The look in his eyes was positively terrifying. "Who else received these?"

"Um… everyone on the mailing list… Just other agents, some Defense staff…" She said slowly, studying him warily. "It's just a prototype, so the general public won't see it for a year or two."

His lips pressed tightly together. "Not good." He muttered. "This is not good at all."

"Why?"

Blinking, he seemed to finally snap out of his daze, focusing back on her with an almost surprised look. "….nothing." He said at last, frowning. "I'm just thinking aloud."

"Bull." Celine crossed her arms, studying him intently. "You know something, and it just scared the crap out of you. What gives?"

Trey eyed her, but then turned and grabbed his jacket. "I have to go."

"Oh no you don't!" Celine surged to her feet, grabbing his elbow. He whirled on her, eyes narrow with anger, but she didn't back away. "Look pal, we're partners right? And Partners work with each other. Now you know MY little secret, but I'm willing to wager that you known something you're not telling me. Now I'm not going to force you to tell me, but as your partner, if there's something dangerous or suspicious about these schematics, I think you need to at least let me in on why you're acting so nuts!"

His eyes bore into her fiercely, studying her resolve with a strong intensity. For a moment, she was sure he was going to twist out of her grip, but to her surprise he moved closer and lowered his voice. "Fine." He said quietly. "But you must promise me you will tell no one." She frowned but nodded in agreement. He glanced over his shoulder as if afraid someone would overhear them. "Those schematics? I've seen them before. And they're NOT something I ever expected to see circulating around as a prototype."

"Why not?" She asked quietly. "That top secret?"

"Lets just say the design specs where they came from were not to be released at all." He said firmly. "And I'm unsure HOW they managed to get the specs in the first place, the only people who KNOW those specs are not the kind of people who would ever willingly reveal them."

"Maybe someone got paid off."

"Never." He hissed fiercely. "No money on this planet could possibly convince them to give up those plans."

She frowned. "How many people are we talking about that knew these designs?"

"Three." He said firmly. "Including myself."

"So we've got two people who could have leaked these things."

"Neither of them would have!" He protested fiercely. "That's what I don't understand! For those prototypes to surface…" He hesitated as a shadow of concern washed over his face. "It makes me wonder."

"Well… can you track them down and find out?"

"It would be very hard to do." He groaned softly, rubbing his face. "I haven't seen them for five years, and I have no clue where they went."

"Well someone has to know." She murmured. "These files came from…" She peered at the address. "Well that's no help, they're from this obscure branch that comes out with stuff now and then. I don't even know who to contact for them or where they're based out of."

His expression actually frightened her. It was barely contained rage, his eyes twin coals of anger in their reddish brown depths. "What's their name."

"Sector 7."

She had never seen him so angry. If one could boil water with their looks, he would have done just that. She instinctively cringed back from him, knowing full well that his anger wasn't directed at her, but at the information she had just given him. Nonetheless, a creeping sense of foreboding crept up her spine as he bore holes into the computer with his gaze. His jaw worked furiously, his fingers clenched in his fists so tightly she wondered if he might draw blood. "Sector….7." He whispered finally, his voice harsh. "What do you know about them?"

"I know my father hates them." She said slowly. "He's ranted about how they cross lines all the time… He wouldn't say what they did other than some kind of super secret research projects like prototype weapons and such. He's tried to get them shut down in the past…"

"They should be." He growled. "They should have been shut down five years ago!" She grimaced at his tone, which drew his attention. His fury died a little. "I'm sorry. I'm not angry at you."

"I know."

"It's… THIS." He gestured at the screen with frustration, then pinched his nose, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. He stood there for a long moment before he opened his eyes and looked at her, his calm countenance returning. "Are you still in touch with your father?"

"Uh… well yeah." She blinked, taken aback. "I talk to him every week. Why?"

"I need to borrow your cell phone for a moment."

Celine felt a rush of alarm. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You can't just call up my father to talk to him! That's so against protocol. He's a busy man, I can't just interrupt him…"

Trey looked her square in the eyes. "Celine." He said quietly, placing gentle hands on her shoulder, surprising her at the touch. Normally Trey didn't like being touched or touching others. "I swear to you I would not ask this if it were not severely important. Your father will know who I am, I promise you I will not be wasting your, or his time." His eyes bore into her. "I would not ask if this weren't vitally important. I need to make him aware of this."

"I'm sure he knows…"

"He may have seen the schematics, but if he's not aware where they came from he won't have known a thing is wrong. Trust me, it is critical I talk to him." Celine studied his eyes. They were so bold, so fierce. They seemed to almost burn with an inner glow, an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. In that moment, she found herself fumbling for her cell phone before she knew what she was doing. In a heartbeat, he had it in his hand and was dialing the pre-programmed number. She sank into her seat, heart pounding. Her father was going to be furious if this wasn't as important as he claimed. "Hello? Mister Secretary? No, don't hang up. My designation is NBE-D10. Do you understand me?" There was a long pause. "Yes, sir, that's right." Another long pause. "Well sir, there is a matter of urgency I have to discuss with you. Did you receive schematics for a new jet prototype in your email this morning?" Pause. "Yes sir, I work for the FBI public image division, so I received them through your daughter." There was a deathly silence before Celine could HEAR her father's angry words distorted on the other end. "I have no intention to, sir. I know what our treaty says. My concern here is that YOUR people may have just violated it with those schematics. Do you even realize where those came from?" Long pause. "Yes sir, I imagine you get the drift. I'm very concerned that something dangerous might have happened here. I would like to ask your permission to bring your daughter into this level of security, since I am going to need inside help tracking down who's behind this." Another long pause. "Thank you sir. Then I can go ahead?" Pause. "Thank you. I will." He turned around and then handed the phone to her. "He'd like to speak to you."

Warily, Celine took the phone. "Dad?"

"Hi kid." Came her father's tired voice from the other side of the line. "I'm sorry you're being pulled into the middle of all this. But I think he's right, it's for the best. I'll send you a folder of documents to your email at home tonight for you to read, but the best thing for you to do now is listen to what he has to say."

"Ok." She agreed. "I'm assuming this is highly top secret stuff?"

"The highest." He agreed. "And Celine…?" There was a long pause where she could hear him struggling to find the right words. "The most important thing to remember is, whatever he tells you is the truth. No matter how crazy it sounds, it's true."

Celine felt a sudden surge in the pit of her stomach. Her father was not one to exaggerate, and he sounded exhausted… which only meant one thing, he was being deadly serious. Strange thoughts began to run through her head. "Ok…" She said slowly. "Should you warn me about anything?"

"Just… keep an open mind."

And with that, the call ended, leaving her feeling even more baffled as she glanced over to Trey. He smiled thinly. "Well… I might as well break it to you. No sense putting it off." He sighed, glancing outside. "Do you have a car here?"

"Uh yeah, it's parked in the garage."

"Lets' go then."

She blinked. "What, right now? In the middle of a work day?"

"Trust me, this takes priority."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Other Side**

By: nightelfcrawler

_Author's Note: Apologies for the slow times between updates. Please be patient with me, life becomes busy and then dies down in spurts, so my inspiration comes rather crazily._

**Chapter Three**

Frowning, Celine gathered her purse and followed him as they walked down to the garage. On the way she glanced sideways at him. "So… What's the deal with all the secrets here? When Dad says it's the highest level of top secret, just what are we talking about? Weapons of war? Other country secrets?" She smirked a little. "Little green men?"

He shot her a very speculating look, frowning as the elevator doors closed. "I'd rather not elaborate until we're in your car." He said finally. "Let's just say it involves some incidents about five years back."

She blinked, and then ran over the files in her head. "Five years…. There was a bunch of stuff going on then… some strange meteor crashes, a terrorist attack on a few different locations across the globe…"

He nodded sagely. "Many of those incidents were all connected to one cause. The root of that cause has been hidden from the public, and for good reasons."

Celine felt that itching feeling in her gut as they approached her car. She slipped in as he joined her in the front seat, and they started driving up the ramp, splitting into traffic. He directed her where to go, and she glanced at him expectantly. "So… what are we talking about here? First we see supposedly classified jet designs, now you bring me into this through my father who knows you under a code name I've never heard of… What is going on?"

He sighed. "All right…" He said finally after a moment's thinking about how he was going to present the information to her. "As I told you, the meteor shower, the incident at the Hoover Dam, and the incident at Mission City are all related." Her eyes widened a bit. Those were two big events that had a LOT of publicity. No one could cover up terrorist attacks, and she'd heard some other wild stories to come in par with those two incidents. Like many wild tales she'd dismissed them. But something in her gut itched at her in warning as he continued. "There's no easy way to say it, other than to say it." Trey finally spoke quietly. "The meteors were not some unidentified rocks that crashed from space."

"No kidding." She murmured. "They seemed to mysteriously vanish if I remember."

"Yes. Because the meteors were not solid chunks of rock or metal, but a form of life."

She nearly hit the break. It was only her instinct that kept her going. "Beg your pardon? They WERE little green men?"

"Not exactly." He smirked at her reaction. "They were inorganic life forms. Those meteors **WERE** them, not a ship of any sort."

Celine took a deep breath. "Ok… that isn't what I expected to hear, but go on."

"Their race are called Cybertronians." He continued calmly as if he were explaining how weather conditions worked. "They came from their own world far distant to here after it was virtually destroyed after millennia of war between two opposing factions. They came here for a reason, in pursuit of a relic that had crashed here ages ago before humans ever were developed. They weren't the first, the commander of one of the factions came here about a hundred or more years past and got trapped in the ice of the arctic region. In the 1800's an explorer by the name of Archibald Witwicky uncovered him, and his frozen body was brought back to a secret location along with the artifact that was found elsewhere at an earlier date. This base was buried inside the Hoover Dam, and it was turned into a tourist attraction to keep suspicions low." Celine blinked, but decided it was in her best interest not to say anything. "Eventually the others came searching for the relic, which is called the Allspark, and the rival faction came looking for their commander. This is what led to these attacks, they broke through the dam's defenses and busted their commander out while the other faction managed to work with the military to get their hands on the Allspark. This war then was brought to Mission City, where a lot of damage was done and subsequently covered up." He paused. "A peace treaty was signed not long after, because the commander of one of the factions was killed, and there were few left to continue the cause, the Allspark was destroyed in the process. It gave them nothing to fight over, so the war was ended. The U.S. government signed an accord with the Cybertronians, recognizing them as political refugees and granting them permission to remain on Earth as long as they obeyed the laws, didn't harm any of the natural residents, and didn't stir up trouble. To this date, the accord has been enacted upon without incident, until now."

Celine grimaced. "Let me guess, those schematics?"

"Yes." He agreed darkly. "I'm at a loss to figure out how they could have gotten them." He frowned. "The three of us who have access to these diagrams would NEVER give them up for any reason, even for enormous amounts of money. It just isn't rational."

Celine slowly turned her head, studying him. He hadn't said it, but the dots were slowly being connected. Why was he and 3 others the ONLY ones who had access to these plans? There could be only one answer, but she wasn't able to bring herself to ask it. Instead, she turned before he even directed her to, pulling into the industrial complex.

Trey blinked. "How did you know…?"

"I um… kind of traced down some information on you." She admitted guiltily, glancing his way before they pulled up and stopped in front of his rented warehouse. "I wondered what kind of strange things you were into… I didn't do much other than peek at your files though. I never expected some kind of top secret clearance." She turned the key off in the ignition, and sat there in silence for a while. Finally she glanced his way. "…I have to ask." She said quietly. "Just how are you wrapped up in all of this. Robotic aliens crash-landing and warring with each other, top secret government agencies involved, special treaties…" She stared at him intently. "I'm not sure how to believe all of this. I know my father told me to believe what you told me, but it's just so…."

"Difficult?" He suggested, a faint smile gracing his features. "I understand, believe me."

"First off, how is it none of us have noticed these aliens? Do they just stay in hiding all the time? Where do they live for one?"

He sighed, and turned his head towards the warehouse, his lips pressed tightly together. "…well… that is part of the reason we are here." He paused for a moment, but she didn't interrupt his thoughts as he organized them. "The reason you haven't seen them is because they have a unique ability to take on other forms that are equal to their mass. They are considerably larger than humans you see… and because of this unique ability to program other complex shapes into their body, they can take that shape without flaw."

"Take another shape? What like a human?"

"Not exactly." He said smiling a bit. "We'll come to that… what I mean is, they can program themselves to take shapes similar in size, and they are mostly too large to become human shaped. Instead they have the ability to transform into cars, trucks, jets, and other mechanical constructs."

She blinked. "So… cars that drive themselves?"

"Yup."

"Wonderful." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "This is rapidly becoming weird."

"It gets weirder." She glanced up at Trey and saw his expression suddenly looking uncomfortable with a tad bit of guilt tied in. "You asked about human shapes? Well they have the ability to project holograms, but not holograms as you might know them. These are solid matter holograms that can interact with impudence in their surroundings."

She blinked and then blinked again as suddenly it clicked. "Oh." She said quietly, looking up and down as her gut clenched with a suddenly nervous flutter. "Then… you….?"

He nodded once, averting his gaze. "I am one of them." He said softly.

Celine closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. All of this was just SO strange, that she would have laughed if her father hadn't been so adamant that she believe what Trey had to say. And the fact was, he was speaking like something right out of a sci-fi novel. "I see." She said again, speaking slowly. "Or rather, I don't quite SEE yet… but I imagine that's why you've brought me here?"

He smiled awkwardly. "Yes."

"So your real body is inside?"

"Yes."

"And this is just a kind of hologram?"

"Yes." He said smiling more. "Would you like proof?"

"Like and need are two different issues." She muttered. "But I suppose if you show me now, I can get used to the idea of a transforming alien robot a bit easier."

He smiled slightly. "I suppose. Very well then." He reached forward and in one flawless motion she watched as his hand vanished right into the dashboard, and came back out again, whole and completely unchanged. As if that wasn't enough, he stuck his hand out through the window, waved his arm and brought it back, then gave her a wry smile. "Do you need more demonstrations?"

"God no." She groaned, putting a hand to her face and forcing herself to take a deep slow breath. "I want to say 'I don't believe this' and believe me I want NOT to believe it… but my Dad is not one to joke about anything. Ever. He's just not." She took a slow shaky breath. "So… let me get this straight. You're one of these alien robots, you've been passing yourself off as an FBI agent because what, you're bored sitting around doing nothing, and now that you've seen these plans you're pretty sure something fishy is going on, so you need me on board to help you track down the truth?"

"That's pretty much it in a nutshell." He said quietly.

"Great. Let's get it over with then." She said, opening her door abruptly, stepping outside and taking another deep breath to steel herself, hoping she wasn't making a mistake.

"Are you sure…?"

"I'm sure." She said firmly, turning to face him as he strangely enough opened the door and got out 'normally'. "Am I ready? Probably not. But I'm sure." Trey glanced at her uncertainly but then nodded once, turning and walking towards the warehouse door with purpose in his step. They reached the door where he punched in a complicated code into the number-pad and the door opened with a click. He held the door open for her politely, and she stepped inside, steeling herself for the inevitable. She wasn't quite sure what to expect, some alien-like car or truck perhaps, something VISIBLY different at least. But as soon as they entered the door, she was a bit distracted to see a perfectly normal-sized entryway complete with a pair of chairs and a table, a coffeemaker, refrigerator and microwave, perfectly neat and clean. Surprised, she glanced at him. "Don't tell me you actually keep this here for guests?"

"Hey, do you know how easy it is to stretch out when you're thirty feet tall?" Trey grumbled, crossing his arms. "I need a place to relax. Give me a break. If it helps, check the fridge."

Curious, Celine moved to the object in question and opened it. Sitting there neatly lined up on every shelf were square clear plastic containers with a rather murky pinkish-brown goo. It smelled strongly of something like antifreeze. "What....are those?"

"Fuel." He said simply, leaning on the wall. "Albeit a very disgusting poor substitute, but then I never was a very good scientist. I suck at making the stuff, but it at least keeps me fed."

"So you don't live on coffee?" She smirked a bit, peering up at him from over the door.

"Not likely." He snorted. "While the stuff is strong, and it at least tastes better, it doesn't keep my tanks full." He closed the door on her, his eyes holding hers firmly. "This way." He said jerking his head over his shoulder.

She sighed and followed him down the narrow corridor which led off to a restroom, and a couple small storage rooms. But at the end of the corridor was another door, this one unlocked as he pushed it open and entered. At first, she could see nothing. It was pitch black inside, and took her eyes a moment to adjust to the numerous shadows. But she could feel instinctively that the space was very large, as a warehouse should be, and not very full, which a warehouse shouldn't be. The echoes from her footsteps bounced off the walls sharply, and squinting through the dim light she could barely make out something large sitting in the middle of the room.

Trey flipped on the lights.

Blinking at the sudden illumination, she found herself staring nose-to-nose with a sharply angled familiar nose-cone of an F-22. And it was dark blue. It was just like the pictures on Trey's wall. Suddenly, it clicked. He'd flown in the 'air force' he'd said... was obsessed with planes.... and knew about plane schematics.

She almost laughed aloud, but decided that wasn't a good idea, and might come off as insulting. Imagine that, insulting a fighter jet.

She was aware that Trey was watching her closely to see her reaction, staring at her from the side with an anxious expression, but she pointedly ignored him and instead strode forward, running a hand on the undercarriage, studying the sleek jet's figure. It was typical of it's make, with exception to the color. The color was not just paint, it appeared the metal itself was made out of a deep azure-cobalt alloy, glittering faintly in the light, smooth and waxed. There were a few deep scratches across the fuselage, scratches that had apparently been there for some time as they were polished and clean around the edges. There were also two stripes running along either side of the wing, bold white and red. In the center of each wing was stamped a vibrant violet symbol that looked rather intimidating, but was faded with age along with the rest of the paint striping. But every line, every cut of the jet was flawless and if it hadn't been colored differently, she never would have known it was an alien in disguise.

She turned around, facing Trey as he watched her. "Well..." She said finally. "Aside from your atrocious color scheme, you don't LOOK like an alien."

That got him smiling. "Then stand back." He warned, and abruptly without warning he vanished. Quickly deciding standing UNDER the jet was a bad place to be, she backed up as requested, turning her eyes upwards staring in curiosity at the silent shape above her.

She heard the sound before she saw any movement. It sounded like digital sounds of a computer starting up, a very distinctive sound that made her ears twitch. Then, the jet moved. It didn't just move, it twisted, or rather parts OF it twisted. The nose-cone abruptly rose up on it's own, the wheels remaining in place, the wings suddenly rotated back on a horizontal plane, and then the entire jet simply stood up. She wasn't sure HOW, but suddenly a leg materialized out of the undercarriage, stepping onto the ground as a knee formed and hit the cement next to it with a thud. But her eyes were drawn to what was happening higher up, as shoulders finished shifting, the wings firmly attacked and jutting out from them as a head unfolded from what had been the cockpit, two bright red eyes flaring to life and focusing down on her as the entire process finished. Standing crouching above her, in what could closest be referred to as a football quarterback's pose, was definitely something FAR more alien than an F-22. At first, she wasn't sure WHAT to think. It was definitely humanoid in the fact it had two arms, two legs and a visible head, but that was where the similarities ended. She could SEE parts of the plane in his form, the striping still visible on the wings set against his back, lettering across his lower thigh that said 'U.S.'. However, his entire visage was quite intimidating. He had a very sharply angled battle mask covering his entire face, grated grill hiding all but his eyes which gleamed down at her. Vents in his shoulders were whirring slightly in a slow pulsing motion, and she could see small cogs and parts moving slightly as he bent over her. He definitely had the appearance of a soldier or warrior, poised and ready to react in a second's notice. And while her heart pounded fiercely in her chest, adrenaline pumping through her urging her to react to the fight or flight insistence, she didn't feel afraid. She ignored rational thought that said she should be screaming, running or fainting, however, steeling herself to not move, but stare up at him and try to accept what she was seeing. It definitely felt unreal, and it wasn't something she could completely come to wrap her head around, but no matter how many times she blinked, he remained there, watching her.

"Wow." She finally managed to say, her voice sounding small and thinner than normal. "Definitely not a normal jet."

A low rumble nearly startled her into running, as she jumped in alarm. The noise filled the warehouse, vibrating under her feet making her very bones quiver. It took her a moment to realize that the sound was actually laughter. "I half expected you to faint." A deep sonorous voice with a definite digital echo to it's tone rumbled out all around her. It sounded vaguely like Trey's own voice, but only slightly as it was far louder and deeper.

She swallowed hard. "Don't give me ideas. I'm still considering whether that's a good idea or not." There was a sudden sound of grating metal, and the faceguard protecting his lower features slid back, revealing a more humanoid face. There were definitely lips of some sort, and the plates moved fluidly as they pulled up into what she could only imagine was a smile. Moving slowly as not to startle her, the large alien jet-turned-robot straightened up, pulling himself onto both feet and rising nearly to his full height. True to his word, he stood as tall as the ceiling, and had to stoop a little in order to fit. He slowly stretched out his arms, as a cacophony of metal grating screeches filled the room with the motion. She winced, but waited as he stretched, obviously stiff from not moving for a while. After he finished, he knelt back down and moved himself into a more comfortable sitting position, though he still easily towered over her. Slowly she stepped forward, his crimson eyes watching her as she moved to slowly put a hand on the closest piece of metal attached to one of his feet. It was slightly warm to the touch, and she could feel a slight vibration, as if it were alive. Curious, she peered up at him. "Well... of all the alien first encounters I imagined, this definitely fit nowhere in it."

He laughed again, making her jump slightly, but she quickly relaxed as her pounding heart finally seemed to grasp the fact she wasn't going to need it's rapid pace. "I have viewed many of your 'alien first encounter' movies... and you're quite right."

Celine snorted, dropping her purse on the ground as she slowly approached. "So... your name can't really be Trey, can it? And I have to ask, how did you learn our language?"

"We're able to download any information we want from your wireless networks. They're fairly easy to hack into, actually..." Was the reluctant answer. "And downloading your language, any language on this planet for that matter, is not difficult. As for my name, while you couldn't pronounce it in our native tongue, the closest approximation in your language would be Thundercracker."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Interesting, but attractive. Is there a meaning behind it?"

"Yes." He smiled again, and she was finding him increasingly less scary each time he did so. "I have the unique ability to produce sonic booms without being in motion if I like. It's rather handy in battle."

"I'll bet. I won't ask you to demonstrate that one." She said wryly. He chuckled again, moving so that his face was a little closer to hers. She studied him cautiously, still feeling her stomach tying itself in knots, but her heart had slowed at least. "So my father knows about you? And the rest of your people?" She frowned. "How many MORE of you are there here?"

"About twenty perhaps. Most of us are scattered about by now, as our treaty gave us leave to go where we liked as long as we remained within the boundaries of your country and caused no trouble. To my knowledge there have been no new arrivals, so likely the rest found other places to seek refuge."

"And you're here because your planet is pretty much..."

"Junk." He agreed, sighing. "Unfortunately. We have no other place to go that would provide us with fuel at least. Here we can at least live a semblance of life, though it may not be exactly what we want."

"Yeah, I imagine spending your days cooped up in here isn't appealing."

"I make do." He sighed. "But yes... I would love to not have to hide all the time." His eyes lifted up towards the ceiling. "We are permitted to move about outside as we like, and have been given flight clearance and protection from being fired upon, but it is not the same."

"I imagine not." She tried to imagine a tall alien robot trying to enjoy himself on a beach without being disturbed, and nearly started laughing. "So how long have you been doing this?"

"Since the treaty was formed, and our war officially ended."

"So a few years now. And in that time, have you seen any of your people?"

"No." He shook his head. "I haven't. I know where a few of my former comrades have taken up residence, but the majority of us scattered about. There are ways of finding each other, but considering how widely we're scattered about, it wouldn't be easy."

"It must be lonely, being separated from the rest of your kind." She mused softly, staring up at him with a speculative look.

A wry smile passed over his face and he nodded slightly, shoulders stooping a little in a very human-like gesture of sadness. "It is. But most of us did not part on exactly… complacent terms."

"I'm sorry to hear about that."

His gaze swept back down to her. "But, I think given what is happening, I cannot afford to continue doing this on my own." For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of hesitation cross through his optics as he gazed down at her thoughtfully. "How are you at flying?"

"I do fairly well." She said slowly, a gut-clenching feeling making itself home in her stomach. "But we're not talking commercial jets are we."

He smiled with obvious amusement. "No."

"I've never flown in a fighter jet." She admitted. "A few larger military craft, sure, but never a fighter jet. But I don't think I'll be likely to hurl my lunch, if that's what you're worried about."

"Good." With a grinding of gears, suddenly she found herself faced with an enormous palm outstretched in front of her. "Step on."

Warily, she swallowed tightly and carefully stepped onto the uneven metal surface, her heels not the best walking device, and she quickly pulled them off and stuffed them in her purse as she knelt down, gasping as he abruptly moved, causing her to try and balance on a rapidly rising surface. Though he moved slowly, it still didn't help ease her nerves as his large body loomed above her while he stood upright. Directly in front of her, a glass canopy loomed, and within she could see instruments and what appeared to be a seat squashed flat against his chest. As she watched, the items re-arranged themselves into a normal seating arrangement for a jet, as the canopy slid backwards, and he held her close enough so she could climb in. Awkwardly, she did just that, sliding into the seat less than gracefully considering it was pointed at the floor. But she managed to brace her feet against the undercarriage of the instrument panel and buckle herself in securely. But if it was disconcerting hanging suspended in mid-air in the chest of a giant alien, that was nothing when the canopy slid closed over her, and he stood up. She grabbed onto the restraints tightly, forcing her breath to remain calm as he turned, pushed a large button on the side of the wall, and the ceiling began to retract above them. "I suggest you brace yourself. This may be rather uncomfortable." Was the sudden loud warning from all around her as Thundercracker's deep voice shook the cockpit, vibrating through the seat she sat in. And without another warning, a deep jarring vibration exploded through the whole cockpit as she heard a low whine of engines powering up. Curiosity driving her, she peered downwards and saw bright blue light spilling out from the large robot's heels, painting the floor with liquid fire. Then, with a clench of her gut, she felt them leave the ground. It was slow at first, but the moment she saw the ceiling of the hangar slide out of her view to reveal a wide expanse of buildings spreading out all around them.

A thought occurred to her. "Um… hate to break your bubble here!" She yelled over the roar of the engines. "But it's DAYTIME!"

A low chuckle echoed through the cockpit. "Don't worry. No one will see us… Hold on." And with a sudden digital sound, she watched in fascination as parts began to move all around her, shifting around her without invading the cockpit space, as he folded swiftly back into his F-22 form, and with a bone-shuddering jarring g-force off the charts, she was pushed back into her seat as the world streaked wildly around her, explosive roars echoing in her ears as the jet abruptly took off with rapid speed, streaking up into the low thin cloud deck and soaring into open blue sky. Gritting her teeth tightly, she forced herself to breathe, her fingernails digging into the straps tightly for support as she watched the ground fall away from them.

After a few minutes, the roar of the engines seemed to fade a little as they kicked into cruise mode. "Are you all right?" Came a worried voice from within, making her jump a little. "You seem unnaturally tense."

"Just fine." She managed, her voice sounding slightly higher than it should, but at least not shaking. "Just… getting used to this. I'm very glad that I don't have to steer."

Thundercracker laughed again, sounding amused. "So am I. I've actually never transported a human inside me before. I just want to make sure you're comfortable and can breathe fine. I think there's' a helmet and mask somewhere around there."

"I'm sure I'll be fine. As long as you don't cruise too high."

"Very well." They fell into silence for some time, during which she couldn't help but study the instruments in front of her. They looked normal for any military jet, nothing out of the ordinary at all. If it weren't' for the fact that the controls were maneuvering on their own, she never would have known better. In fact, after a while, she began to relax and enjoy the ride, feeling the lightweight sense of freedom that came from flying. It was amazing, now that she considered it, being inside a sentient jet was a whole new experience. She didn't have to worry about mechanical failures or maneuvering to keep herself alive, knowing that he was just as interested in survival as she, and would be able to handle it far better than any simple human piloting a craft. Now that she could relax, she noticed how smooth the flight was, how effortless they seemed to cruise without hitting turbulence, or if they did, he adjusted minutely so it was just a gentle swell rather than a bump. The idea fascinated her, and she wondered if such things jarred him as badly as it did passengers.

"So, where exactly are we going?" She finally ventured once they had reached a high cruising altitude, and she was watching the land spin away behind them with wisps of clouds sliding by between them and the earth.

"A remote mountainous region in the Nevada desert."

Celine blinked. "You're joking, right? That's on the other side of the country."

"It won't take us more than two hours, if the winds stay calm up here."

She just gawked at the console. "Just how fast are we going…?"

"Mach 2."

"Jesus." She whispered softly. "I don't feel G-forces at all."

"You forget, I am no normal jet."

"Right, sorry." She smiled gently. "So, the F-22 is designed to go at least 1,600 miles per hour, so the military says in their civilian briefs though I'm sure the true top speed is higher. Does that mean you can go faster?"

"I can, though it's not comfortable for me to cruise much faster for long distances. My wing commander, Starscream, he could go much faster for longer periods of times. He was always the fastest jet out there, he could leave us in his vapor trails at any time he chose to. Skywarp, well let's just say he has his own way of catching up when he needs to. I was always the slow and steady one they had to keep pace with."

"That fits you." Celine mused. "You seem to be the more patient type to me. Like the middle brother stuck between two siblings. Was that much how it was?"

He laughed softly, their trajectory wobbling slightly at the movement. "Yes, actually that is quite accurate. Starscream may have been the youngest of our trine, but he was always the leader, the one directing us. And Skywarp is as childish as they come. They often drove me to want to bash my head into the nearest wall at times."

"Sounds like brothers to me." She smiled. It was strange. When she had first met 'Trey', she had thought he was a stiff cold prick with no life. But now that she was 'in' on the secrets he harbored, he seemed to open up to her, letting her into his life as easily as if they had known each other for years. But then, she supposed he didn't often confide in people. Imagine their reaction if he told them his best buddies were two thirty foot tall robotic fighter jets with sibling rivalry issues.


End file.
